


it starts like this, harmless and simple to fix

by narryblossom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, God Harry, Healing, Human Niall, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Slow Burn, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narryblossom/pseuds/narryblossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wasn’t sure when he’d see Niall again–he knew of course that he would see Niall in the morning when he delivered breakfast, but he didn’t know if he’d have another chance to just sit and talk. He realized that Niall was the only person he’d had an actual conversation with since he’d gotten to Earth. He had too much to do in North America to stop and talk, moved around too often to meet people, but he realized now that he missed the interaction. He wasn’t made for people, but he liked people–at least he did now that he knew Niall.</p><p>In other words, Niall and Harry easily become infatuated with each other when Harry starts staying at Niall’s family hotel, but their love is condemned to be…seasonal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it starts like this, harmless and simple to fix

**Author's Note:**

> Things to know:  
> Harry = Belenus, a god who was thought to move the sun  
> Cailleach = goddess of winter  
> Tír na nÓg = "Land of the Young" aka the godly Otherworld; a place of no sickness, old age, or death, where happiness lasts forever, and a hundred years is one day.  
> Airmid = Goddess of healing, keeper of spring  
> Donn = Lord of the Dead, also for some reason thought to be the creator of the Irish people

It was February 1st when Harry appeared in Ireland that year. He was early, arriving a month or two sooner compared to years past. He used to be meticulous when sweeping the snow out of North America and polishing the roots he grew years ago. He would always make sure that the south wasn’t sprouting too quickly and the north wasn’t too frozen to thaw without him. He wanted to keep his perfect track record, to keep the humans happy and prevent suspicions of climate change, but there was a longing in his chest and a burning in his hands that he couldn’t deny. He left Canada too soon, accepted that their winter was going to last longer than planned, and crossed the Atlantic, melting ice and carrying the sun as he went.   
  
He didn’t want to eradicate winter so early in the season, but he did want to ease it away sooner than Cailleach would have liked him to. He knew that if he started in the mildest place in the region, spring would come too quickly, yet starting spring in an area with the most severe winter weather would be unlikely, so he chose a region as unsuspecting and average as he could.   
  
He found himself in the town of Mullingar. Located in county Westmeath, it sat more or less in the middle of the island, not too far in any direction towards a shoreline. It was surrounded by rivers and lakes which gave it plenty of snow drifts and icy breezes, but didn’t make it too difficult for Harry to melt the snow and keep it at bay.   
  
He enjoyed being discreet and letting the humans think that the weather was uncontrollable, though to him it was. He could snap his fingers at any moment and change the season, could completely bewilder the humans who tried to predict the weather, but he was always in favor of taking his time reviving the earth. He’d pace through a region for weeks and breathe on the branches of frostbitten trees, skate over frozen lakes until he could swim in them, and bring song back to the birds to wake up the creatures in hibernation. He knew he didn’t have to be so careful, didn’t even have to leave Tír na nÓg to do his work, but healing the earth and bringing spring was what he did best, and he preferred to do it in person so that he could admire his handiwork up close.   
  
When Harry got to Mullingar, the feeling in his chest led him to a park before it went away, leaving him in awe at the scene around him. He smiled, knowing this must be where he was supposed to be. He didn’t get the feeling of needing to be somewhere often, in fact it had only happened a few times in his long life, but he knew well enough that there was something for him at the end of the road that he couldn’t ignore.   
  
Harry dusted snow off of a bench and sat down in the dry spot that resulted from his touch. As the rest of the snow on the seat melted around him, he analyzed the garden. He noticed indentations in the ground around trees and along the walkway where flowerbeds surely laid, and he noted where each bush sat freezing. He smiled pensively at the scene around him, wondering what would grow from his presence and what he could plant to add to it. His hands itched with excitement, but he clasped them together tightly and made himself wait before touching anything, before melting more snow, and before making leaves grow.   
  
As the sun began to set on the park that evening, Harry made his way down the block to the Horan Hotel--the place he would be living for the next month. It was a simple two story building made of stone and covered with dead vines trying to cling on for their lives. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but he chose this hotel at the suggestion of another deity who claimed that the staff were gloriously oblivious to any supernatural happenings they may bring, but at the same time were incredibly hospitable. From the moment he walked in the door, he had to agree on at least the second claim.   
  
“Hello!” the man behind the counter smiled widely, immediately making eye contact with Harry as he walked over. His eyes only broke away for a moment to look at Harry’s hands, but he didn’t say anything about them.   
  
“Hi,” Harry began slowly, simply. “I have a longstanding reservation for Styles.”   
  
“Right!” he exclaimed as he looked down at his aging computer to check Harry in. “You’ve not got much luggage for someone with such a long reservation,” he commented, eyeing Harry with a small glint of suspicion.   
  
“Ahh,” Harry rubbed his palm down his face in embarrassment, having forgotten such a human thing like bringing actual clothes to change into rather than having an endless supply of anything he could have imagined.   
  
“My luggage was lost,” he claimed on the spot. “I’ve got to replace it all.”   
  
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Styles,” the man said in a genuine tone. “I hope your luggage shows up somewhere. Here’s your room key,” he said as he reached under the desk, “you’ll be upstairs in suite five.” The man--Bobby, according to his nametag--handed Harry an actual key instead of a keycard that larger hotels had. Harry smiled as he took it, feeling the weight of the cool metal in his hand.   
  
“Thank you, Bobby.” He clasped his hands together and bowed his head in a grateful gesture before turning away from the desk. His eyes scanned the lobby quickly, and when he located the stairs on the opposite side of the room, he climbed them to find his suite.   
  
It was plain, but not extraordinarily so. The walls were off-white, the bedding was all white, and the other furniture was black. There was a large television that Harry didn’t quite know how to use, and the bathroom was designed in a sleek black and white scheme as well. Having expected old wallpaper and gaudy, scratchy sheets, this was a pleasant surprise.   
  
Harry peeled back the blankets carefully as he got into bed that night, sighing contently as his warm skin made contact with the cold fabric. It was nothing compared to his bed up in Tír na nÓg, but it was better than other mortal beds that he had slept in throughout his travels. He tried not to make it a habit of staying on Earth long enough to need a place to sleep, but being away from home made his body less immortal and more human as necessary to blend in. He had been on Earth for a month already, and it was finally catching up to him. He slept for the first time that night, and he slept well.   
  
The sunlight through the curtains woke him up in the morning, or maybe it was the knock on his door. Harry hardly registered it as he slowly trudged out of bed, but it had to be fairly loud to wake him from his sleep. He stood behind the door and pouted as he rubbed his knuckles against his eyes, soon dragging his open palms down his cheeks while letting out a soft groan.   
  
“Hello!” a chipper voice greeted him when he opened the door. “Complimentary breakfast?” the person asked, holding a tray towards him. He squinted into the light of the hallway and nodded slowly, taking the tray carefully so as to not drop it in the transaction, and to avoid making contact with the human’s skin.   
  
“Thank you,” Harry croaked, turning back into his room without actually having looked at whoever had woken him up. The door clicked shut behind him and seconds later he heard a cart rattle down the hall. Harry put the tray on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed in his dark room, picking through the Irish breakfast slowly, still not quite having a human appetite.   
  
When Harry was ready to go out for the day, he realized he’d have to wear the same clothes that he wore yesterday. Bobby had already noticed his lack of luggage, so surely he would find it suspicious if Harry had a new outfit despite not leaving his room all night. If he were still in Tír na nÓg he wouldn't have to find new clothes. Things were different there--his powers were different. If he were at home, he would be able to change the look of his clothes simply by thinking of a more attractive pattern or style, but while he was on Earth, that privilege had been revoked. He sighed as he got dressed in the outfit he had worn the day before, but he had seen so little people that he was sure he would be the only one worrying about his clothes.   
  
He found that shopping wasn’t the same on Earth as in Tír na nÓg where small coins and favors were used to get things and powers could be used to make other things. He had to use a piece of plastic card to pay for his clothes in Ireland, which was a concept that slightly baffled him. He didn’t know his limit on the card or how it worked, but he had been given it on his way down and was briefly told how to use it.   
  
Harry felt bad spending half of his day compiling a new wardrobe, but he couldn’t stop himself when he found a shop full of beautiful silk shirts that were similar to what he wore at home. He tried to spend the rest of that day outside with the plants to make it up to them, carefully feeling for their stems and easing the cold away from them. He earned a few strange looks as he was mumbling to a tree while he patted his open palms against it, gently feeling for any dead spots, but he was used to it after ushering spring for so many centuries.

Once again, Harry went to the Horan Hotel as the sun set on the Irish evening, and in the morning, he was forced to get out of bed after a sleepless night due to a knock at the door.

“Morning, Mister,” the blond greeted him, “Got another breakfast for ya if you’re interested.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed, scratching his exposed tummy as he stood in the doorway in only his boxers. “Sure,” he said as he looked at the metal cart stacked with trays of food.

“Here ya go then,” he said as he handed over a tray.

“Thank you,” Harry replied as he backed into his room and kicked the door shut behind him. His appetite was stronger now having only eaten a few bites of breakfast the previous day, so he downed the crepes and berries he had been served.

After breakfast, Harry took a shower and basked in the warm water for longer than he maybe should have. The sun was creeping across the sky by the time he got out, which made him dress quickly while trying to dry his hair in a towel at the same time. He told the trees he would be back in the morning, and he didn’t like to break promises.

He wasn’t sure what day of the week it was, but there were more people in the park today than there had been before. Harry watched an old woman throw seeds to some birds while a small family rolled snowballs into larger shapes for snowmen, and another younger couple held hands and tried to pass their blushes off as being caused by the cold. He smiled as he watched, chucking to himself about the silly habits of humans.

Harry sat on the same bench he had on his first day in Mullingar and slyly slid his hands along the wood until the frost melted and his seat became dry. No one noticed him doing so, and he knew they wouldn’t. He had never been caught using his power to warm and grow things, and if he had, he was never questioned. Humans tended to only notice his existence, not what he could do. They were plainly oblivious and discredited their own memory whenever they saw something strange, which only ever worked in his favor, making it easier to stay on Earth undetected.

“Hi,” Harry heard a vaguely familiar voice beside him as movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked to his left and noticed that a blond man now sat beside him.

“Hello,” he offered with a smile. They held eye contact for a moment before Harry took a better look at the man next to him and began to slowly realize that he recognized him.

“Have I met you?” Harry asked slowly, furrowing his eyebrows in slight concern at his lack of remembrance.

“I see you at the hotel,” the stranger replied, chuckling softly. “I’m Niall  _ Horan _ ,” he emphasized his last name as he slightly leaned towards Harry to stage-whisper, “I bring you food.”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed as he made the connection. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, I’m usually so...tired in the morning, you know?” He was searching for reasonable excuses, and it seemed to work for him.

Niall nodded and smiled at Harry.

“I’m used to it,” he stated, then laughed at Harry’s deflated expression. “Not in a bad way, mate. Everyone’s tired in the morning. They don’t notice  _ me _ , just the food I’m giving ‘em. I don’t mind,” he ended with a soft laugh.

Harry nodded his head slowly as he thought about what Niall said. He turned his attention back to the park in front of them, smiling as he noticed snow dripping from a birdbath.

“Spring is lovely, isn’t it? It’s almost here, just a bit longer…” Harry trailed off softly, gazing longingly at the bare branches of the trees above them.

“I guess so,” Niall shrugged. “I heard the groundhog saw his shadow and went back to hibernation, though. Should be a long winter this year.” Harry whipped his head around towards Niall, an offended look on his face.

“A groundhog?!” he asked exasperatedly. “How’s a groundhog supposed to tell when spring is coming?”

“Not the groundhog,” Niall laughed, looking at Harry with amusement. “His shadow. If he sees his shadow, he goes back to sleep for six weeks. If he doesn’t see his shadow, it must be a cloudy spring day, or somethin’ like that. Haven’t you heard of groundhog’s day? It was yesterday.”

“That’s…” Harry pouted, looking away from Niall again. “That’s not something a groundhog gets to decide.” Harry left Niall’s question unanswered, though it was evident that he had never heard of such a silly day.

“It’s nothing any of us get to decide though, is it? Might as well give the little guy some credit for something,” Niall chuckled as he drew his hands out of his pockets. He raised them to his mouth and cupped them around, huffing air on them to warm them up. As Harry watched, he almost wished humans still believed that gods controlled what happened on Earth, but those beliefs changed long ago. Harry tried not to dwell on the fact that he never got credit for changing winter to spring. He knew he shouldn’t spend any more time moping around because nobody knew he existed, he'd done plenty of that a few decades ago.

“You didn’t tell me your name, you know.”

“Oh,” Harry jumped slightly having almost forgotten Niall’s presence as he lost himself in thought. “My name is Harry Styles.” He stated his name carefully as though he wasn’t quite sure if he was right, and maybe it’s because the pseudonym never quite settled on his tongue the way he thought it would. He’d been using it for years, but he rarely talked to anyone, and it was even more rare that someone would need his name.

“Harry Styles, huh?” Niall questioned as he watched something in the distance. Harry watched as he nodded his head slowly as though he approved.

“Yes,” he breathed out, biting his tongue to keep from defending his name. Among the things he learned long ago, one of them was that humans would believe anything you told them, so despite Niall’s tone, Harry felt confident.

“That sounds like a stage name. Like you should be famous or something,” Niall rattled off, turning to smile at Harry.

“Famous?” Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, not me.”

“Aw, why not? People should know a name like Harry Styles,” he teased, still smiling at Harry. A tiny dimple appeared on Niall’s cheek when he smiled, and for some reason this stirred a nervous energy within Harry’s hands. He shrugged and drew his hands into his sleeves to hide the way they began to shake. He knew this feeling and knew it well, but it confused him. His hands had never ached to heal a human until he sat there beside Niall.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled softly, clenching his hands together. It was quickly becoming overwhelming, almost as if his hands would burn if he didn’t touch Niall right that second and take away his ailments.

“Are you sick?” He blurted, turning his body towards Niall. He looked surprised that Harry would ask that question so suddenly and out of the blue, but he answered nonetheless.

“I mean,” he shrugged, “I haven’t been feeling the greatest, but I’m okay.”

“Mm,” Harry sandwiched his hands between his thighs as he turned away from the blond and back towards the park. He noticed the old woman was gone, and so were the birds. The bath was still dripping, the family was still making their snow-people, and the young couple’s footprints led off towards town.

“Do I look sick?”

Harry hesitated to answer, quickly weighing out the options he had. He could lie to Niall and say he looked healthy, or he could stupidly tell Niall the truth and give away his divinity. Harry prided himself in not being a liar, but masking the truth didn’t technically count as lying.

“Not really. I’m just...good at picking up on things, I guess.”

“Oh. Okay,” he nodded. “Well...I better get going. I was supposed to be running errands for my ma.” Niall stood slowly, legs trembling in the cold.

“Okay.” Harry offered him a soft smile which Niall returned.

“I’ll see ya around,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away. Harry didn’t reply and instead watched with peaked interest as Niall tried to hide his limp and keep his balance as he trudged through the watery snow.

_ That must be it, _ Harry thought.  _ Something’s wrong with his leg. _

It wasn’t Harry’s business to mess with humans. He knew that. He was made for the seasons--for spring specifically--not for people. So despite the tingling in his hands and despite Niall’s limp, Harry stayed on the bench and he waited. When it seemed like no one was left to notice him, he began his work as always, rubbing buds on scraggly bushes and scraping his heel against stubborn ice patches.

Harry wasn’t sure when he’d see Niall again--he knew of course that he would see Niall in the morning when he delivered breakfast, but he didn’t know if he’d have another chance to just sit and talk. He realized that Niall was the only person he’d had an actual conversation with since he’d gotten to Earth. He had too much to do in North America to stop and talk, moved around too often to meet people, but he realized now that he missed the interaction. He wasn’t made for people, but he liked people--at least he did now that he knew Niall.

That night when Harry was trying to fall asleep, his stomach made a loud rumbling noise that he hadn’t heard before, and it gave him a few small aches.  _ This must be what it’s like to be hungry, _ he thought,  _ surely it’s more painful than necessary. Do humans go through this every time? _

He reached across his bed to the nightstand and languidly felt around for the hotel phone that he knew was sitting there. He rolled over and examined the plastic card with a list of phone numbers before settling on room service. The phone rang twice before a soft voice answered, then he chatted with the woman about how late it was before asking for whatever she thought was best.

“I’ll send up some roast in twenty,” she said, and though Harry couldn’t see her, he could tell she was smiling. He was good at communicating though he rarely did, knew all the right things to say and the way to carry himself to have good results in any situation.

Harry put the phone back onto the receiver and rolled onto his back, letting out a content sigh. He stared at the stippled ceiling blankly while he waited, chewing on his lip gently to keep himself occupied. The silence of the room was broken by a knock at his door.

Harry kicked the blanket off of himself before striding over to the door, never one to keep people waiting. He flipped on the lights just before opening the door, and he rubbed his open palm against the edge of the door as it began to itch. He had honestly expected the woman on the phone to bring him the roast, but that was a silly thought now that he remembered what Niall had said to him in the park.

“Hey,” Niall smiled weakly. He was paler than usual and his hair stuck to his forehead, matted down by the sweat collecting in it. Harry gave a tired greeting in response and tried not to ask more questions about Niall’s condition. He knew some humans to be too prideful and too private to openly discuss what could be “wrong” with them, so instead he focused on not letting his fingers brush Niall’s shaky ones as he took the tray of food.

“My ma’s roast is really good,” he said while trying to improve his grin, “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” Harry nodded his head once and briefly flashed a small smile. “You look, um…” He couldn’t help himself after all. There was a different vibe coming from Niall, Harry was sure his hands were burning because of him. “Do you wanna come sit down?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Niall sighed after a moment of hesitation. He slowly limped across the threshold into Harry’s room, grasping onto the door and the nightstand as he passed by. He dropped onto the bed almost as if he were falling, but Harry averted his eyes to spare Niall the feeling of being watched.

“Only because I’m technically off shift, though,” Niall added as though he needed an excuse to be there despite Harry inviting him in.

Harry sat at the small writing desk in the corner of the room and uncovered his tray of food. He noticed Niall eyeing him suspiciously as he took his first bite, and thinking Niall wanted his opinion on the roast, he held his thumbs up and smiled as he chewed. Niall’s expression didn’t change.

“You said I look…?” he trailed off, grabbing a handful of the sheets as he leaned onto one of his arms.

“Sick,” Harry mumbled after swallowing his food. “You look sick--even more than you did earlier.”

“I think it’s just because I’m tired…” Niall shrugged, looking down at his hand. “It’s been a long day.”

“I get it,” Harry nodded, taking another bite to busy himself. He didn’t really understand though, not really. He heard people saying similar things like “I feel you,” or “I understand,” so Harry felt like it was an appropriate thing to say. It was the only thing he  _ could _ say to stop himself from lunging at Niall with his burning hands to feel his forehead and his leg until he no longer felt the itch to heal him.

“I noticed you have a limp,” Harry added as casually as he could when he began to feel nervous energy coming from Niall.

“Yeah,” he mumbled quietly as he watched Harry eye his knee through the hole in his jeans. “I just been having some problems with it lately. It started acting up once when I was playing footie with some mates and then I fell on it and it kept getting worse and worse, but sometimes it just goes away like nothing’s wrong.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” Harry suggested with a shrug. Doctors were, after all, the people humans were supposed to go to for a diagnosis. Harry knew what was wrong with Niall, though, or at least he thought he did. It was slowly being pieced together in his mind that this wasn’t a normal flare of pain to Niall.

“I have before and he just told me it must be stiff and I should ease off it a bit. It didn’t really do anything for me.”

“Maybe see a different doctor,” Harry insisted, “Someone who could fix it.”

“Maybe.” Niall glanced at Harry’s clock and tried to stretch his knee in front of him. He tried to hide it, but Harry could see him wince.

“I should get going,” he sighed, pushing himself off of the bed carefully.

“Okay,” Harry replied, standing as Niall did. “Well, thank you for bringing my food.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Niall chuckled softly. “It’s my job and all, yanno.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, smiling at the sound of Niall’s soft laugh.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Niall waved before walking towards Harry’s door. Harry stood in his place and watched him let himself out, calling softly as the door closed,

“Good night, Niall.”

It was almost a week later when Harry noticed that Niall started wearing a knee brace. He didn’t mention it the first time he saw it as Niall was delivering breakfast, but the next day he remembered to say something as he opened the door.

“Good morning, Harry,” Niall greeted with a smile.

“Good morning,” Harry smiled in return before motioning down towards Niall’s knee. “You got a brace, I see. Did you go to a doctor finally?”

“No,” Niall smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “I got it online ‘cause I did some research and I think it’ll help.”

“Niall,” Harry tutted, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. “You really should have seen a doctor. What if the brace make it  _ worse _ ?”

“You sound like my ma,” Niall groaned, rolling his eyes as a playful smile spread across his face.

“Your ma is probably right, though,” Harry teased, giving Niall an innocent smile when he glared.

“Yeah, yeah. Here’s your breakfast,  _ ma _ ,” he prodded, shoving the typical tray into Harry’s hands.

“Thank you,  _ son _ ,” Harry teased back, smiling fondly at Niall. His cheeks flushed at Harry’s smile, but he turned away to his cart before Harry could see. He pushed it off down the hall without another word, but he could tell Harry was still watching him until he got to the next door, then he finally heard the gentle  _ click  _ as Harry went into his room and the door shut behind him.

Later that day, Harry was on his way to the park as usual when he heard feet against the lobby floor behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry!” Niall chirped, smiling widely up at him.

“Oh, hello,” Harry smiled back just as wide, tucking his hands into his pockets, clenching his fingers into protective fists.

“Hi. Are you going to the park by chance?” he asked almost breathlessly like he had been chasing after Harry a while.

“I am, actually. Why?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go on a walk with me. I’m on my break right now and it’s starting to warm up outside, it would be a shame to stay in all day, yanno?” Niall stammered, blushing as he watched a fond smile appear on Harry’s face.

“Sure,” Harry smiled wider, reaching for the door handle. He pulled the door open then held it for Niall to go through first.

“Thank you,” Niall said as he stopped a small chuckle behind his rosy lips.

“You’re welcome,” Harry replied as he followed, quickly matching his pace so that they could walk beside each other.

“You were the one that said spring was coming early, weren’t you?”

“Yes, despite what your silly groundhog told you,” Harry joked, making Niall laugh happily. Harry was used to the perfect music created in Tír na nÓg, but the sound of Niall’s laugh was easily one of the most beautiful things he had ever heard.

“Right, right,” Niall giggled, bumping his arm against Harry’s as he teased, “you just won’t give them credit for predicting the weather.”

“They were  _ wrong _ , Niall!” Harry exaggerated his offense by throwing his hands up. “They don’t deserve any credit if they’re  _ wrong _ .”

“You could at least be nice to them,” Niall kept smiling and laughing softly as he rested his knuckles gently against Harry’s arm while he spoke to him. Harry was so tempted to reach out and take Niall’s hand, but he couldn’t. He still had no clue what would happen if he touched a human, but in case it was something bad, he’d rather not test it on someone he was starting to value so dearly.

By the time the pair had gotten to the park, their pace had slowed considerably. Niall’s knee was the cause of course, having gotten stiffer and therefore more difficult for him to move as they kept walking.

“At least the ice is all melted so we can’t slip... Do you wanna sit down?” Harry offered as they neared a bench.

“Yes please,” Niall mumbled through gritted teeth. Harry stayed beside Niall until he sat down, then he sat as well.

“Is your knee hurting you?” Harry asked in concern, furrowing his eyebrows when Niall bit his lip and nodded slowly.

“Do you wanna head back to the hotel?”

Niall shook his head again.

“We just got here, Harry. I think I just need to rest for a while. Can we stay?”

“Of course we can,” Harry nodded, laying his arm across the back of the bench, “It’s a good day for sitting outside.” His fingertips grazed the hood of Niall’s jacket, tempting him to reach just a bit further to the pale skin of his neck or maybe the short brown hairs that weren’t changed the last time Niall must have dyed his hair.

“It is.” Niall nodded again, this time cracking a small smile at Harry. He turned to look at him, making Harry flinch his hand away and lay it flat on the back of the bench. Niall didn’t notice as he commented “it’ll be good weather for footie soon. Do you play?”

“‘Footie’,” Harry copied, sounding as if he were feeling the word on his tongue.

“Yes,” Niall chuckled softly, “Football. Soccer? Yanno, with the black and white ball?”

“Right, I know,” Harry nodded to hide his confusion. He’d heard of the human debate over whether to call it football or soccer, but he can't say he’d ever played it. He saw a match in Germany once, though, during the World Cup a few years back when he was lingering in the area too long, so at least he knew what Niall was talking about.

“No, I don’t play,” Harry finally concluded.

“You should. I bet those long legs of yours would be of use.”

As Niall realized what he said, his cheeks turned red and he tried to stammer out an explanation, but Harry wasn’t paying attention anymore. He was gazing down at his legs, stretching them out beside Niall’s, trying to compare their thighs and their calves.

“Are my legs long? Is that weird?” he asked, giving Niall a concerned look. He worried that maybe his proportions weren’t right and he looked weird to humans, which would therefore given him away as not  _ being  _ human.

“No!” Niall defended quickly, putting his hand on Harry’s knee and gently shoving his leg to the side. “Your legs are fine, they’re not weird. I just meant, like, yanno...you can probably run faster since they’re...long.”

“They  _ are  _ weird!” Harry pouted, pulling his legs together in an attempt to shrink himself.

“They are  _ not _ ,” Niall insisted, giving Harry a fond smile while he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, legs are meant to be long.”

“Okay,” he drawled as he gave in, but continued pouting because it seemed to make Niall smile and he wanted to get a better look while they were so close.

“I should go,” Niall mumbled, clearing his throat softly. “My break’s gonna end soon and it might take me a while to walk all the way back.” Though he said he needed to leave, he made no such move as the pair continued to stare at each other. He licked the corner of his lips slowly and glanced down at Harry’s mouth.

“Yeah,” he sighed out softly, “I’ll walk you back.” Just the same as Niall, Harry said he’d move but didn’t. They sat there staring at each other, faces only a few inches apart. Niall swallowed as he noticed Harry’s eyes slowly moving down his face, but just as he got the courage to lean a little closer, Harry stood up.

“Let’s go then,” he said though his voice was faster than his normal drawl, nervous almost. Niall was embarrassed and thought that maybe he had misread the situation, but he tried to brush it off as he slowly pulled himself up from the bench. His knee shook when he tried to put his weight on it, and he was considering sitting back down until he felt an arm wrap around his waist.

“I’ve got you,” Harry said softly, smiling sympathetically. Niall bit his lip as he carefully wrapped his arm over Harry’s shoulders, holding on tightly as he tried to put weight on his knee again. It was easier now with Harry’s help, but it was still painful and made Nial feel weak. He was thoroughly embarrassed by the time they got back to the hotel and said their goodbyes, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how close he had been to Harry and how warm he had felt tucked into his arm.

Going on walks became a daily thing for them. Harry would purposely leave his room around the same time in hopes of running into Niall, and every day he did because Niall would wait in the lobby for Harry to come down. They would take the same walk to the park and back, stopping at the same bench everyday, talking and getting to know each other as much as they could during Niall’s break. Some days were better than others and Niall would be able to walk independently, but other days were hard on him like the day of their first walk.

It was during these walks that Harry became good at controlling himself around Niall, but at the same time he still felt that he wasn’t making any progress. He felt bad whenever Niall showed signs of being in pain and it took everything in him to keep his hands to himself, but still a few times he was tempted to reach out and wrap his hand around Niall’s to see if he’d pull back. Once when he was helping Niall walk back to the hotel he felt his fingertips at the join of Niall’s shirt and  pants and occasionally would feel the warmth of his skin through the clothing, but he never actually felt the smooth skin of his side.

Harry ended up having a dream about Niall. It was hazy, like the entire dreamscape were clouded by fog, but Harry was sure that he was in Tír na nÓg and Niall was still at his side. It wasn’t impossible for humans to be there, but it was highly unlikely. Harry had never considered taking a human home with him, but the golden veil of light that seemed to shine from around Niall was tempting, and it made him wonder if Niall would actually glow like that. The glow surrounded them both as the dream turned to Harry touching Niall’s pale skin and feeling the rough callus of his fingertips at the nape of his neck.

Harry woke up to a rhythmic thump against the wall above his head. He thought he was hallucinating at first due to the half-asleep state he was in, but as the noise continued, he woke up more. At first he tried to blame it on the pipes of the old building, but when he heard a moan of  _ ohh! harder! _ he realized exactly what was going on in the room adjacent his own.

He sat upright in his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his palms before glancing at the clock on his bedside table with a groan. He was just getting the hang of sleeping regularly and now he’d been woken up at one in the morning because someone next door couldn’t control themselves. He wanted to go back to sleep but in the few minutes he stayed in his bed, the person next door got louder and more vulgar.

Harry begrudgingly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before shuffling down to the lobby. He thought that if Bobby were down there, maybe he could call their room and tell them to knock it off, or maybe if Bobby wasn’t there, Harry could go back to sleep on one of the couches or chairs that lined the room. Either way, Harry wasn’t about to lose sleep tonight.

When Harry stepped off the last carpeted step to the cold tiled floor of the lobby, he immediately noticed a blond head of hair slumped at the desk with his feet kicked up instead of the person he was expecting to see. His hands felt warm and clammy as he walked across the room, the familiar tingling sensation of wanting to touch rising again as he got closer to the desk.

“Niall?”

His head snapped up at the sound of his name.

“Harry? What’re you doing up so late?” He gave Harry a confused look as he straightened his back and sat up in his chair.

“There’s a couple in the room next to mine who seem to be fornicating very loudly. Who decided it was a good idea to put beds in two different rooms against the same wall?”

“I’m not sure,” Niall laughed, “but I’m sorry they woke you up. It’s Valentine’s Day, though, what else did you expect?”

“Valentine’s Day?” Harry questioned. “Is it like Groundhog’s Day? Are they melting snow by fornicating?”

Niall’s laughter was almost hysteric.

“No!” he howled as he leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up in the air. He gasped for air and kept laughing, leaving Harry feeling embarrassed but also strangely endeared as he watched Niall’s cheeks brighten to a shade of red. However, the endearment changed to concern just as quickly as Niall’s laughter turned to coughing.

“Are you okay?” Harry drawled, pressing his hands flat against the counter to prevent himself from reaching out.

“Yeah,” Niall coughed, “I’m fine, I’m fine. The, uh, Valentine’s Day thing you said was just funny. Do you know about  _ any  _ holidays?”

Harry shook his head.

“You must have been raised in the woods then, mate. That’s kinda weird. Valentine’s Day is the day you give presents to your lover and usually it ends in ‘fornication’.” Niall mocked Harry’s accent when he used Harry’s choice word.

“Oh,” Harry nodded lamely. “Okay. Well do they have to be so loud about it?”

“No, probably not. Do you want me to call them for a noise complaint?” Niall tiled his head as he looked up at Harry. Even though his cheeks were still dark red from laughing and coughing, and his eyes looked sunken and tired from being up so late, he still seemed genuinely concerned for Harry.

“If you could, otherwise I think I might sleep on the couch,” Harry threatened, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

“You’re a bit tall for that, ain’t ya?” Niall chuckled softly as he reached for the phone. Harry watched as Niall’s tongue traced the corner of his lip while he dialed the room number and his gaze stayed on Niall’s mouth while he talked. His words were a blur to Harry which he blamed on being tired, but a small part of him knew he was becoming infatuated. Before Harry realized what he was doing, his hand was sliding across the counter towards Niall’s and he only stopped himself when he saw Niall look down and chuckle, a confused but charmed smile forming across his face.

It was after that encounter with that Harry decided to buy gloves. He wasn’t sure that gloves would really do anything for him besides make his hands warmer than they already were and block him from feeling anything, but that was kind of the point. If he was going to keep finding himself so close to Niall, he needed to keep his hands to himself, but just in case his lost control, the gloves would hopefully work as a barrier. He’d never touched a human, but he assumed his energy would flow through them the way it did for the other living things he touched, or at least warm them the way his touch did to inanimate objects. Maybe the gloves wouldn’t really help  _ anything _ , but he liked to think they would.

“So you don’t have a cell phone?”

It was a few days after Valentine’s day when Niall came up to Harry’s room during his break to hang out. He’d been shy about asking, saying if Harry was busy he didn’t have to let him in, or if Harry was just sick of seeing him he would go away, but Harry just smiled and told him to come in, so there they were. Niall was in the chair at Harry’s desk with his feet propped up on it while Harry laid sprawled across the bottom of his bed.

“Nope,” Harry drawled his O and popped his P, tilting his head to the side to look over at Niall.

“Why not? Don’t you have people to keep in touch with and social media to check and stuff?” Niall really shouldn’t have been surprised at the confused look that crossed Harry’s face, but part of him was anyway. People like Harry were so unheard of and rare that it made him seem abnormal. 

“Social media?”

“Like Twitter and Instagram and Snapchat,” Niall laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll show you.”

Harry sat up and ran his hand through his hair as Niall moved to sit beside him. His smaller frame turned towards Harry, knocking their knees together gently (and luckily, it was Niall’s good knee). While holding his phone in front of Harry, Niall looked up slowly and watched Harry’s brow furrow slightly as he watched the screen turn bright blue with a white bird in the middle as Twitter loaded.

“You’re really warm,” Niall breathed out, “I can feel it.”

“Sorry,” Harry jumped slightly when he saw how close he and Niall had gotten. With a shy smile, he scooted a few inches away.

“I don’t mind,” he smiled back, “Kinda cold in here anyway.” He was trying to be subtle in inviting Harry to come closer to him, but maybe he was too subtle because Harry didn’t scoot any closer. Niall was mildly disappointed at this, and it only made him feel more shy than he already was starting to become around Harry. He thought Harry seemed interested in him, but the small moves Niall made never seemed to work.

“So, uh,” Niall shook his head slightly as though he could actually shake away the thought of rejection. “This is twitter. You just kinda say whatever you want and whoever follows you can see what you say and reply to you or retweet you…” Harry nodded and tried to follow along as Niall described the different features of different apps, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around why humans needed so many ways to keep in touch.

“But why?” Harry whined after Niall moved on to yet another app, “Why can't you just have one?”

“Because not everyone is on all of them, and people like to show off I guess. They all do different things, so...” Niall shrugged, looking up and giggling at Harry’s exasperation.

“People are weird,” Harry chuckled softly, looking down at Niall’s eyes.

“Mm,” Niall hummed, nodding slowly. He didn’t even consider the implications of what Harry said, just stared up into his eyes and smiled. Things felt easy between them, they were clicking together like puzzle pieces, and Niall  _ really  _ wanted to kiss Harry, see if maybe he felt the same way since he couldn’t tell if Harry was getting his hints.

So he did.

Or, at least he tried to.

When Niall started to lean up towards Harry, the taller bloke looked somewhat shocked, almost scared, as he jumped up from the bed.

“I, um,” Harry stammered, brushing his hands down his chest to smooth his shirt.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Niall mumbled, also getting up from the bed. He quickly turned and walked to the door, not pausing when Harry called his name as the door began to swing closed.

Harry didn’t see him again for three days.

The morning after Niall had tried to kiss him, Harry was waiting by the door when his daily breakfast arrived. His hands were shaking with all the built up energy he had, or maybe it was because he was nervous to see Niall again. He had wanted so badly to kiss him, to just lean in and let him know he wanted him, but they just  _ couldn’t _ . He didn’t think Niall would understand. There was a small history of humans becoming aware of Tír na nÓg, but it never ended well for them or the deity that told them. There was always someone locked away or dead in the end.

Harry jumped when there was a knock at the door, startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled the door open quickly, but it wasn’t Niall on the other side.

“Nia- Oh, hi Bobby. Where’s Niall?” Bobby gave him a kind smile and pretended he hadn’t noticed how desperate Harry sounded.

“He’s at home sick, I’m afraid. Said he hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“Oh,” Harry nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. “Okay. Well, thank you.”

The same thing happened the next morning. And the next.

“Is Niall still sick?”

Bobby sighed and gave Harry a sad smile.

“He’s been pretty rough. He went to the doctor today but I haven’t heard back from him yet.”

“Alright…” Harry drawled.

“I’ll let him know you asked after him, if you’d like.” Bobby offered, still holding a sad smile.

“Okay,” Harry agreed softly. “And tell him I hope he feels better.”

“Will do.”

Harry skipped breakfast that morning. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but not seeing Niall was beginning to affect him. His appetite was shrinking but he had a constant anxious feeling filling his stomach instead. His hands were burning hotter than ever which usually meant Niall was near, though he clearly wasn’t. No matter how many times Harry tried to snoop around the hotel, he couldn’t find Niall hiding away from him somewhere because he really was home sick, not just trying to avoid him. Harry knew he was sick from the day he met him, and he was almost mad at Niall for waiting so long before going to see a doctor.

Harry had a bad feeling that something was wrong, and he soon found out that he was right.

Since Niall had been missing, Harry hadn’t been out of the hotel. He wanted to be in his room in case Niall suddenly came by for his break like he had been, didn’t want to miss him if he showed up, but he never did. He moped over every meal when Bobby delivered it instead of Niall. Harry tried to keep Niall off his mind, but the blond he’d been spending every day with had made a home inside of Harry’s mind and wouldn’t let him go.

Harry wouldn’t let himself sit around and mope any longer, so he showered and got dressed for the spring weather and went for a walk to the park. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Niall sitting on the bench they always stopped at-- _ their  _ bench, he’d called it once.

Harry approached slowly, almost in fear that Niall would get up and run away like the time he ran after Harry didn’t kiss him. He sat down slowly beside Niall, but he didn’t look over.

“Niall,” Harry said slowly. Not as a question, not in a way that demanded attention, but simply just to say it. He noticed then that there were tears in his eyes and his cheeks were redder and blotchier than normal.

“Harry,” Niall’s voice cracked and broke down as a sob came out of his mouth. Concern rushed through Harry almost as fast as his hands almost darted out to wipe away his tears. Niall had never been so vulnerable before, never any less than smiling and happy towards Harry, so this was... _ terrifying _ , Harry thought.

Harry fumbled over his words before settling on a simple “what’s going on?”

“I’m dying,” Niall sobbed, clenching his fists to his forehead as he looked down at the ground between his feet. “I’m going to die, Harry.”

“What? What do you mean you’re dying?” Harry’s hands were shaking, begging to heal at the mere mention of death. He felt his whole body tremble as he realized what was happening.

“I went to the doctor today. I was at the hospital  _ all morning, _ kept doing all these fucking tests _.. _ . They scanned my knee and there’s a tumor, a fucking tumor under my kneecap and it’s spreading down my leg to my ankle and I’m going to fucking die, Harry.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“I am going to die, or if I’m lucky I’ll lose my fucking leg.”

“You’re  _ not  _ going to die, Niall. And you won’t lose your leg.” Harry’s voice was flat and emotionless, or maybe it was so full of emotion that neither of them could tell which one to pay attention to.

“One or the other is going to happen, Harry. I’m going in for surgery tomorrow to get the tumor removed...if they think the cancer is still there after the tumor is gone, they have to…”

“They won’t. Trust me.” Harry’s stare was too intense for Niall to hold. He looked away and didn’t nod or shake his head like Harry expected him to. He stared ahead at something in the distance and bit his lip to keep it from shaking.

“Will you visit me in the hospital tomorrow afternoon? See how I’m doing, how my parents are holding up…” Niall trailed off, letting out a small whimper at the mention of his parents.

“Of course I will. I’ll be there.”

“You promise?” Niall asked weakly, turning towards Harry again. The look on his face was heartbreaking. Harry heard his voice crack as he spoke.

“I promise.”

It was early the next morning when Harry was woken up by Niall’s mother. She told him with tears in her eyes that they would have to go to the hospital soon, so after quickly getting dressed, he left with her. She explained that they would meet Bobby and Niall at the hospital and she had come by just to get Harry at Niall’s request.

“He’s so fond of you,” Maura wiped her eyes. “It’ll mean the world to him that you’re here.”

Harry gave her a sad smile but stayed silent for the rest of the drive. They walked through the hospital and after getting sent past several different desks across several different floors, they found Bobby sitting in a waiting room, staring up at a large screen on the wall with different colors and numbers across it.

“Where is he?” Maura asked, a frantic tone rising in her voice when she realized that Bobby was alone. 

“They already took him back,” he sighed, holding up a small card towards her. Harry looked over her shoulder at the card and scanned over the bold, black number, and the several colors and words they corresponded to.

“That’s his patient number, it’s up there on the bottom of the screen. He’s getting anesthesia right now.”

Maura sat beside Bobby, and Harry sat beside her. He watched her slowly examine the entire card before looking up at him with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry we missed him before he went in. They got him in faster than we expected.”

“It’s okay,” Harry smiled back softly, “I don’t mind. We’ll see him after.” Harry did mind a bit, though. He wanted Niall to see him, to know he was there, because he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next and he wasn’t sure he’d still be around by the time Niall woke up, but he didn’t tell Maura that. He didn’t know what she knew about their relationship, but he didn’t want to worry her or make her think that what Harry was planning to do was anything less than out of love.

As the hours ticked by, Harry grew more anxious. His hands were so jittery that he had to clasp them between his thighs or sit on them to keep them still. He thought he had control over himself after hours of waiting, but he was still nervously picking at a hole in his jeans when he heard Maura gasp. He and Bobby looked at her and followed her gaze to the information screen. Niall’s patient number was there, slowly being moved down the list. It was green, and Harry had studied the information card long enough to know that green meant the patient was stable and being transported to a room. Ten minutes later, a nurse was leading the three of them to see Niall.

Maura and Bobby sat beside Niall’s bed while Harry hovered at the edge of the room, staring at him in shock. He was still asleep, and his breathing was slow and quiet, but the smallest snore could be heard over the beeping of his heart monitor. He was paler than usual and his hair was sticking up in all directions. His hospital gown was pulled to the side to leave his knee exposed, a long incision with tens of black stitches dotting up and down on full display.

Before long, a doctor came in the room and explained to them that Niall’s tumor had been extracted and he was given a few “new parts” to stabilize his knee. Maura looked worried, but the doctor assured her that after the tumor was removed, it was a simple knee replacement procedure that he needed anyway. Bobby convinced her it was alright, it’s what Niall needed, and so her nerves were settled.

Niall continued to sleep well into the evening. When a nurse told them there was no way to tell when Niall would wake up, Bobby and Maura reluctantly stood from their seats.

“We’ll be going to the cafeteria to get something to eat. Would you like to come with us?” Bobby asked.

“No thanks,” Harry smiled politely from his seat against the wall. “I’ll stay here in case he wakes up.”

“Would you like us to bring you anything?”

“No, I’ll go when you’re back.”

Bobby smiled and patted Harry’s shoulder before leaving the room. His touch hardly phased him, unlike the time having his arm around Niall almost drove him crazy. It wasn’t all humans that made him feel strange, he knew that, but he was always looking for confirmation.

The moment that the door closed behind them, Harry stood from his seat and hovered by the edge of Niall’s bed. He drew in a deep breath before slowly reaching out with his shaking hands. With one, he brushed down Niall’s hair so it sat neatly against his head, and with the other, he gently cupped Niall’s knee. The second his skin made contact with Niall’s, the burning feeling from his hands spread throughout his entire body. Niall’s heart monitor picked up slightly, but not enough to cause alarm. He watched as Niall’s cheeks slowly turned pink again and eyes started to flutter as if he were going to open them. Harry took his hands off of Niall until his heart slowed and he was asleep again. Then, with tears in his eyes, Harry leaned down a pressed a soft kiss to Niall’s lips to say goodbye.

When Bobby and Maura returned, Harry was gone.

Tír na nÓg had clouded over on the day that Harry came home. The land of eternal happiness and youth was gloomy and seemed to shun him. Gods and Goddesses stopped on the golden streets to stare at him, exchanging estranged whispers as they passed by. His friends didn’t seem genuine when they welcomed him home, and none of their smiles seemed to reach their eyes.

“What’s up with them?” he tried to ask another keeper of spring, his mentor figure, Airmid. She glanced around them before leaning in as though she were sharing a secret.

“They know what you’ve done, Belenus, with the boy on Earth. You took him from Donn. I’ve heard he’s taking you to trial as soon as he finds you.”

“To  _ trial _ ?” he hissed. “You must have heard wrong, nobody has gone to trial in  _ years _ .”

“Yes, but Belenus, you’ve broken the rule and you know it. You meddled with the humans. I heard that they may revoke your privilege to Earth if you can’t plead your case. Donn has blamed me for letting you go in my place and he’s going as far as to suggest I revoke your ability to heal.”

“My...case? You can’t be serious. You  _ can’t _ , Airmid.” His voice was raising in desperation as he stared at her, searching for any hint that she wasn’t being genuine.

“I’m afraid I speak the truth. It’d do you no good to hide. Perhaps you should go to the capital, get this settled before they think you’re trying to get away with it. They might be easier on you if you turn yourself in.”

He said nothing as the realization hit him. He  _ had  _ tampered with a human life that apparently was soon to be Donn’s, and that meant that Niall was supposed to be dead.

_ But he isn’t, _ Harry thought,  _ Donn didn’t get Niall and that means that he’s alive.  _ His heart lurched in his chest.

“I’ll make my case,” he said slowly, turning away from Airmid, “and I’m keeping my position on Earth.” His voice was much more confident than he felt. As he marched away from his mentor, he could almost feel the warm breeze of her sigh of good luck towards him. Gods and Goddesses couldn’t mess with humans that weren’t in their domain, but they were certainly allowed to cast small good luck spells on each other in times of need.

Harry--Belenus, rather--had only gotten a step out of the plaza before two larger gods grabbed him. He struggled against them as they lifted him from his feet to carry him towards a carriage, but they said nothing despite his demands to be let go of. Maybe good luck charms didn’t work after all.

The days Harry spent in his cell leading up to his trial were very gloomy, much like those forgotten days in late winter and early spring where the ground began to thaw though the weather was still much too cold to be comfortable in. It felt wrong to be up in Tír na nÓg while there were still parts of Earth begging for his touch. He’d hardly seen Europe at all over his month there, and it made him dream of frozen fields slowly clearing as he passed by.

It seemed like he was walking through those same fields just after dreaming of them thanks to the uneven passing of time from Tír na nÓg to Earth. He could feel the crunch of dead plants beneath his feet and he felt a familiar burn in his hands, a longing to grow and heal. He wandered until he found where he was and realized quickly that there are parts of the earth that don’t seem to need him as much as he thought. Their winter was much milder, staying snowless and arguably warm, bleeding into a warm, full spring effortlessly. And so he wandered further and further across the earth until he found himself needed again.

It was March when Harry came back to Mullingar, but it seemed like he hadn’t left at all. The same shops were run by the same people, the same farmers tended to the same crops, and the same buildings remained. Surely some of the eldest had been taken to the end by Donn, but new children frolicked in the park with their parents this year, new women had new families blooming in their bellies.

_ Nothing quite captures death the way winter and spring do, _ Harry thought,  _ as one thing is taken, another is gro-- _

Something made contact with the side of Harry’s head, sending him to the ground. He clenched his jaw and felt it pop, and his head throbbed, but the pain melted away almost instantly as he healed. He heard footsteps running towards him, even saw a shadow above him, but whoever was there said nothing.

Harry sat up slowly and as he did, he saw the scrawny legs of the person in front of him. As his gaze travelled up, he saw a long, red scar across one of their knees.

“Niall?” he asked, squinting into the sunshine as he tried to look up.

“Where’ve you been, you arsehole?!” he demanded in a strained voice, swinging his foot to kick Harry in the thigh. It wasn’t clear if Niall was trying to be gentle with Harry or if his body was still in regeneration mode, but he didn’t feel it.

“I, um,” Harry scrambled to his feet, looking Niall up and down as he did so. Then he laughed. It started as a nervous chuckle then it bubbled and rose out of his chest before he could stop it.

“I told you, didn’t I? I knew you’d be okay, Niall, what did I tell you?”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Niall whined as he jumped at Harry, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly. “I missed you  _ so fucking much _ . Why the hell did you leave?”

“I just had to,” Harry mumbled as he hugged Niall’s waist tightly, ignoring the feeling of his skin touching Niall’s side just where the hem of his shirt was lifted away from the top of his shorts. “I’ll explain it to you later, I promise.”

“You fuckin’ better, Harry. I should be mad at you, but I don’t think I can be.”

“I missed you, too.”

“My cancer is gone!” Niall jumped out of Harry’s arms and leapt into the air excitedly. “After the surgery they took me for another scan and there were no traces and it hasn’t come back. It’s a fucking miracle, they had no clue what happened but I’m free!”

“I think I know what happened,” Harry chuckled, slowly lifting his hand to brush an eyelash off of Niall’s cheek. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I’d never lie to you.”

“What do you--” he asked, a look of confusion crossing his blushing face, but he was cut off as a brunet jogged over to them, calling his name.

“Niall! Where’s the ball? And who’s this bloke?”

“This is  _ Harry _ ,” Niall said, emphasizing his name. The brunet’s eyes widened and he let out a surprised laugh.

“Well fuck, you were serious. I’m Louis, and I’d just like to let you know that Niall hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since you left him in the hospital.”

“Lou!” Niall laughed, cheeks flushing dark red. “Shut up, you’re making me look like a fool.”

“Oh, you don’t need my help with that. Do you play footie, Harry?” Louis asked as he picked up the football and started to walk away.

“No, I can’t,” Harry said, tucking his hands down into his pockets as Louis shrugged. “I’ve gotta get going, anyway,” he said to Niall.

“Going?” Niall asked, voice sounding as disappointed as he looked. “Where are you going? You’re not leaving again are you?”

Harry chuckled softly and resisted the urge to lean in and kiss the disappointment off his face. His return to Earth had given him a newfound confidence with Niall.

“I’m going to your hotel,” Harry started with a wide smile. “I’m here for a stay again… You should come see me later.” He bit his lip as he ended, smile turned slightly more shy as he realized that a lot could happen to a human on Earth in just over a year. Niall could have changed his mind about how he felt about Harry, could have completely moved away from the town and would only be in for a visit, even.

“I will,” Niall nodded quickly, backing away to the group of guys he and Louis had come from. Harry breathed out a relieved chuckle.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

They smiled at each other for a few seconds before Niall turned away and ran back to his friends. Harry watched him start up a game for a few seconds before he turned and went to the hotel.

That evening, Niall came to Harry’s room with two dinners.

“I figured we could eat together while we talk,” he smiled, pushing his cart into the room. Harry nodded and closed the door, but as he turned around, he immediately felt hands on his face, then lips on his own.

His hands quickly found their way to Niall’s hips as he kissed him back. When Niall pulled away seconds later, Harry felt himself chasing Niall’s lips, only to be met with a soft chuckle and Niall’s forehead resting against his own.

“That’s for all the times I wanted to kiss you last year,” he whispered, pecking Harry’s lips again before pulling back and dropping to sit on Harry’s bed. “So tell me, then. Why did you go?”

“I had to,” Harry mumbled, wiping his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger. He sat down beside Niall, turning to face him so that his leg pressed against the side of Niall’s thigh. “I did something I shouldn’t have and I got in a lot of trouble for it. I’m lucky to be here right now.”

“Whaaat are you talking about?” Niall chuckled, picking up his fork to start eating the food he brought for them.

“I’m gonna explain it all, and I’m gonna need you to stay quiet until I’m done, okay? It’s...weird and confusing and you won’t believe me at first, but remember--”

“I’d never lie to you,” Niall crooned, copying Harry’s accent. “I know. I’ll be quiet. Go on, then.”

Harry took a deep breath before beginning his story.

“Well, my name isn’t exactly Harry. When I’m here, on Earth, I go by Harry to blend in because it’s a normal name, but my name at home is Belenus. I’m um, I’m a God from Tír na nÓg. I carry the sun and bring spring to earth. When I was here last year--when I told you spring was coming early even though the groundhog said winter was going to be longer--that was because I just got this feeling in me that I needed to be here, and I’m sure that it’s because of you.

“When I met you, my hands just...burned. It was like I was carrying fire and they were going numb. I’ve gotten similar feelings for like, trees that were dying, or flowers that needed help blooming, but never a human. The urge to just... _ touch you  _ was so overwhelming, but I couldn’t do it.

“When you told me you had cancer and I started insisting you were going to be okay, it’s because I made the decision that I was going to break the only rule Gods and Goddesses have to follow, which is not to meddle with human lives. When you were asleep in the hospital, I held your knee and I kissed you and I hoped that it would be enough to save you because I knew that if I let you suffer I would never be able to forgive myself. When I left, it’s because I had to go home to Tír na nÓg to face what I'd done. When I got there, I was being shunned for it. No one would talk to me, they were all afraid to be associated with me because I had pissed off Donn, who is kind of the God equivalent of a school bully, except he also controls death, so he's...kind of horrifying.

“I was put on trial for saving the life of a human that ‘wasn’t any of my concern,’ but...thankfully for me, over half of the court were other Gods who healed or controlled love, and they understood why I did what I did. I shouldn’t be here right now, but I convinced them to let me return to Earth and keep carrying spring, and they agreed...under a few conditions.

“The gist of it is that, well, basically I’m bound to you. Since I gave you life when you should have…you know...you’re the only human I’m allowed to ever,” he shrugged, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap as he chuckled nervously. “You know. Touch or kiss or anything. Like, since I risked my name for you, you’re my  _ one _ .”

When Harry looked up, Niall was staring at him with tears in his eyes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, looking down as he rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on or what you’re on about, but I love you. I love you.”

Harry chuckled, a large smile overtaking his face. “I know what I said is hard to believe, but oh god, I love you.”

Niall lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck for the second time that day. He kissed him again, this time for longer, and more desperately. Their lips were puffy and red by the time they got around to eating their cold dinner. Instead of leaving that night, Niall curled into Harry’s side as they drifted to sleep, feeling the warmth radiating off of Harry’s smooth skin.

“Harry, there ya are! I was starting to wonder when you’d show up,” Bobby exclaimed with a smile on his face. It was that time of year again. Spring was settling in Ireland, and like he had been for a decade, Harry was visiting Mullingar.

Bobby’s dark hair was graying this year, and his movements were getting slower. His knees were creaking just a bit more than last year, but his eyes were still bright.

“Just waiting to get a break from work, you know,” Harry chuckled, leaning on the counter. It wasn’t exactly a lie, Harry was waiting for his work to end in America before he could come to Europe and travel across the northern countries. If his work happened to be  _ seasonal _ , well, Bobby didn’t need to know that.

“Niall’s getting your room ready. Go on up,” Bobby smiled, passing Harry his key.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Niall laughed.

“Harry Styles, your outfits are getting out of hand.”

“You love it, though,” Harry smirked, sauntering over to Niall. His hands found Niall’s thin hips as easily as Niall’s arms found their way around Harry’s neck.

“You’re right,” Niall whispered against Harry’s lips, “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was also posted on my tumblr (narryblossom) along with a moodboard and a playlist


End file.
